


una loba en la bañera

by meretricula



Category: Football RPF, Texts From Last Night - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula/pseuds/meretricula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(224): They only knew me as the lesbian that passed out in a bathtub. That's not what you call friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	una loba en la bañera

**Author's Note:**

  * For [distira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/distira/gifts).



"It wasn't even that bad," Nuri said. "C'mon, you know Ramos doesn't give a shit, she blacked out at the last afterparty and made out with, like, half the team. There's still photos of her licking Cris tagged on Facebook. And she's straight. All you did was pass out in her bathtub."

"After I threw up on Sami," Mesut groaned through the arm she'd thrown across her face.

"So buy her a new shirt, whatever. She's got a million V-neck tees, she's not going to miss one."

"Nuri," Mesut said. "Nuri, you are missing the point. That was the night. The night I was going to tell Sami that I, you know."

"Have had a ridiculous grade-school crush on her since you joined the squad? Dream of adopting third-world orphans and picking out curtains together? Want to furiously hump her leg until the friction sets you both on fire?" Nuri suggested.

"I hate you," Mesut said.

"Obviously; this is why I am your only friend, aside from the one you want to tackle you to the floor and ravish you like a pirate in one of those terrible novels you pretend you don't read. So. It did not go well with Sami last night?"

"I don't really remember the whole conversation, but probably not, since _I threw up on her_. Oh god, I'm never going to be able to look at her again."

"You'd better get over that soon," Nuri pointed out heartlessly. "We have a derby next weekend."

"I _hate_ you," Mesut moaned. "Have I not been punished enough? Leave me alone with my hangover to die in peace."

"Your wish is my command, Princess Pathetica. See you tomorrow, okay? Wash at some point between now and then, your hair is disgusting and you smell like the inside of a trashcan."

"Love you too." Mesut rolled over and briefly toyed with the thought of smothering herself in her pillow. Her head would probably hurt less. She heard Nuri open the front door, but there was a strangely long pause before it shut again; she was about to crawl out of bed to make sure Nuri hadn't left it open--Mesut lived on the top floor of her apartment building, but there was no point tempting fate--when she finally heard it slam.

"Um, hi? Nuri said to just come in…"

Sami. Nuri had let Sami into the apartment when Mesut looked (and smelled, apparently) like she'd just been on a week-long bender. That _bitch_. "Hi," Mesut croaked into her pillow.

"How are you feeling?" Sami asked.

Mesut made an inarticulate noise meant to generally signify physical misery. Sami had the nicest voice, she thought. It reminded her of home. She wanted to curl up in Sami's accent and go to sleep.

"That good, huh?" Sami said, quietly enough that the throbbing in Mesut's temples didn't spike again. "Hey, hang on a minute, I'll get you a glass of water."

Since Mesut had no intention of moving in the foreseeable future, it was fairly easy to obey. She listened to the faint sounds of Sami poking around in her tiny kitchenette and tried not to think about whether her perpetually-tidy visitor would notice the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

"Here, I brought you some aspirin," said blessed, sainted Sami. "Do you think you can sit up if I help you?"

Mesut reluctantly rolled over onto her back, eyes squeezed shut against the sunlight pouring in through the blinds. She only opened them, tentatively, when a shadow fell across her face; Sami was leaning over her with a glass of water in one hand and two white pills in the other. She was also talking, something about the importance of proper hydration, but she was wearing one of her endless supply of thin cotton V-necks, fabric clinging to every curve, and Mesut was only human: Sami had _amazing_ breasts. They were high and firm and looked just exactly the right size to fit into Mesut's hands, and she'd wanted to test that hypothesis since the first time they'd met.

"Mesut!" Sami said, probably not for the first time if the exasperation in her voice was anything to judge by. Mesut blinked, the vision of Sami's cleavage slowly releasing her from its spell. "Take the pills, all right? There's no point trying to tough out a hangover."

"'course," Mesut mumbled. She pushed herself up enough to take the aspirin from Sami's hand and popped them into her mouth, and Sami held the glass for her while she washed them down. Mesut spared a brief moment to wish, improbably, that she'd worn a hat to bed; if her hair was bad enough that _Nuri_ had noticed, she didn't want Sami anywhere near it. But there was no point worrying about that now. "You're an angel, Sami. Thank you."

"It's just aspirin," Sami said. Her cheeks were turning pink. "I'm pretty sure you've got some in your bathroom."

"Which is a really helpful place for it when you're too hungover to crawl out of bed, I've noticed," Mesut said.

"Well, I'll leave the bottle in reach for next time," Sami offered, smiling shyly, and opened the bedside drawer before Mesut could stop her. "Oh."

"Uh, usually I don't whip out the Hitachi until the third date," Mesut said into the incredibly awkward silence. "But, um, there it is!"

"Oh," Sami repeated. She'd gone from pink to tomato-red. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have--I mean, I didn't mean to, um, invade your privacy, I should--should I go? Oh, god. This is coming out all wrong."

"So far I've thrown up all over you and accidentally sprung my sex toy collection on you while you were trying to give me painkillers," Mesut said. "I'm not really sure what you're sorry for, but, uh. Pretty sure you've still got the upper hand in the apology sweepstakes."

"Wait, you remember throwing up on me?" Sami demanded. "I thought you had to be blacked out."

"No, I wasn't _that_ \--I'm really sorry!" Mesut hurried to add. "And I'll buy you a new shirt, where was it from, the Gap?"

"American Apparel," Sami said absently. "But I don't--I mean. I just." She looked down at the empty glass that was still in her hand, then back up at Mesut. "Did you mean it?"

"What, that I'll buy you a new shirt?" Mesut asked, bewildered. "I'm pretty sure that is literally the least I can do to make up for what I did last night."

" _No_ ," Sami snapped. "Did you mean what you said _before_ you threw up?"

Mesut searched her memory of the previous night, but it was all a little blurry between her third beer and vomiting on Sami's shirt. _That_ was in crystal-clear high definition, presumably for the same reason that Mesut couldn't remember half of high school but could describe in perfect detail the outfit she was wearing and the food on her tray the day her first girlfriend outed her by dumping her in the middle of the cafeteria. "Um. I wasn't blacked out, but I was probably... not that far from it. I was drinking all night trying to work up the nerve to ask you out, and I don't usually have more than one beer, 'cause I'm kind of a lightweight, so I don't really remember what I said? But whatever it was, I'm really sorry!"

"It wasn't, um, it wasn't anything you have to apologize for," Sami said. "Just. You were going to ask me out? Because you didn't get further than 'I really like you' before you started to puke. And then I thought maybe that was a sign."

"No! Nonono! I really do like you! The puke was just because I can't hold alcohol for shit! Oh god. Um."

"Well, that was all I wanted to know."

Sami was smiling, Mesut saw when she risked a look up at her. That was probably a good sign. "Um, I'm still kind of hungover, so… sorry if this is a stupid question. But does that mean you'll go out with me?"

"How about you sleep off the hangover and brush your teeth," Sami said, "and ask me then." Mesut didn't know what her expression looked like, but it made Sami laugh. Then she leaned down and whispered into her ear, "I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I'm going to say yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the brilliant TFLN remix by [textsfromfutbol](http://textsfromfutbol.tumblr.com/post/11527301624) on tumblr and [this thread](http://touchline.livejournal.com/727.html?thread=79063#t79063) at touchline, in which my recipient expressed the desire to see Real Madrid as a female roller derby team. Sorry that I didn't manage to get the badass nicknames in! The title is from Shakira's song Loba, sort of. If I got the Spanish right, it means "a she-wolf in the bathtub". The original is "a she-wolf in the closet", which I maintain is only slightly less ridiculous.


End file.
